


Be my Jack

by Khaelis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 17:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14266383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaelis/pseuds/Khaelis
Summary: The Doctor and Rose find themselves in trouble again.They have to hide in a car, and Rose feels the urge to improvise a remake of that one scene she loves."Have you ever watched Titanic, Doctor?"





	Be my Jack

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written some Ten x Rose smut, and there can never be enough Ten x Rose smut anyway.
> 
> Graphic PWP, references to Titanic, a bit of humour and crack thrown into the mix, and voilà!
> 
> I hope you'll like it, please let me know what you think!

* * *

 

 

“Quick, Rose, get in!” he urged, yanking the door open to shove her inside with a firm push on the small of her back.

“Wait, this isn’t…”

  
  


The rest of her protest was drowned into a gasp when he crashed over her back and pressed her deeper into the emerald carpet, the door quietly clicking shut behind them. They held their breaths at the sound of hurried footsteps and frenzied shouts flying past their improvised hideaway, and they could only hope none of the police agents would be clever enough to peek inside the car.

  
  


“You and your bloody obsession with nibbles,” Rose reprimanded in a murmur as she shifted her leg that was uncomfortably digging into the hard structure of the backseat.

“They were good,” he shot back, a poor excuse for all the troubles they had went through. “Honestly Rose, the tuna canapés were  _ delicious _ .”

“And if you hadn’t decided to shove a whole tray in your pockets you’d still be eating them, right now,” she huffed, wiggling her shoulders so he would stop crushing her. “Stealing canapés, Doctor, seriously?”

  
  


When he made absolutely sure they were safe, the Doctor pushed himself up and plopped down on the backseat with a sigh, helping Rose up as well so she could sit next to him.

  
  


“It wasn’t stealing, I paid for the tickets,” he shrugged, rummaging through the pocket of his tux to find a nibble that had lost a bit of its shape, but that he was quick to shove into his mouth with a hum of contentment.

“Did you, really?” Rose raised an eyebrow, smiling well against her will at his antics.

“Nope,” he mumbled around a grin and a delighted swallow of the treat. “But they thought I did, so technically, I did nothing wrong. Want one?”

  
  


Rose stared at him with a look she wanted to be both exasperated and resentful, but it was rather counterbalanced by the giggle that rose in her throat at the sheepish smile he offered along with a canapé. She shook her head, sighed, and decided it would be better to let him enjoy his stupid nibbles for a while longer. So, she simply looked around the inside of the car, from the dark leather seats, the old-fashioned curtains and their ugly tassels, to the large window opening on the driver’s seat and the rudimentary dashboard. It smelled of a bit of cold tobacco and the kind of heavy perfume the rich ladies she had met had the party sprayed in the crook of their necks. She didn’t really like that smell, but being stuck in a brand new car dating back to the twenties with the Doctor, she couldn’t really complain.

  
  


“You know what, Doctor?” she whispered, a cheeky grin tugging at her lips as she brushed her fingertips up his thigh. “I get some serious  _ Titanic  _ vibes right now.”

“How do you mean?” he frowned, flicking a crumb off a lapel of his jacket. “The Titanic sunk almost ten years ago.”

“I know, but… The two of us, running from police officers in the middle of the night, hiding in this old car…” she continued, pleased to hear the slight hitch in his breath when he thumb reached the juncture of his leg. “Just saying, Doctor, but I quite like how this scene is supposed to end.”

“Rose, no, there could be people outside,” the Doctor squeaked, the back of his head thudding against the rear window as he tried to move away from her.

“We could draw the curtains,” she continued, bringing her lips close the the shell of his ear, peaking her tongue out to trace its outline.

“Anyone could come back for their car, it’s…”

“Rental car, or so this little sticker tells me. No one will come to rent this car at two in the morning, Doctor.”

“The car will…  _ Shake _ ,” he argued despite his dwindling desire to find excuse - especially after she tugged the hem of his shirt out of his trousers and ran her nimble little fingers up to his chest.

“Have you seen the suspension on that car, Doctor?” Rose asked, smirking at the way the leather creaked under the vise-like grip of his fingers.

“No.”

“Because there aren’t any. It won’t shake. We could, though.  _ Shake _ .”

“Rose Tyler, you are being awfully impudent and… Audacious,” he struggled to breathe out, wiggling his bum, an attempt to keep the seam of of trousers from pressing too hard against his growing erection. “I like it. Close the curtains. Now.”

  
  


Roe hurried to do as she was told, and the sound of him shucking off his jacket and tugging roughly on the curtain on his side was more than enough to spark her excitement - a perfect balance between the thrill of knowing she was about to do something forbidden and the the arousal flaring in her loins, sparked by the Doctor’s hand on her waist that brought her down on his lap. She buried her fingers in the artistic mess of brown spikes crowing his head and moaned deep into his mouth, his hard, demanding kiss just as electrifying as his long arms encircling her back to press her tight against his chest. She loved it when he was like this, his gentle caresses and sweet kisses a long forgotten memory replaced by the immediate and consuming need to always bring her closer, to melt into her body, to make one with her.

 

His fingertips ran down her neck, hooked under the straps of her dress and pulled them to the side, his lips following the path of his fingers to suck the soft skin at the juncture of her shoulder.

  
  


“I’m glad this is the twenties,” he groaned against clavicle when she rocked her hips against his, effectively trapping his erection against her pelvis.

“Why?” she asked along a pant, hurrying to unbutton his shirt.

“The dress, love,” he answered before he bit his teeth into a pitch black pearl sewn on the edge of the corset, just above her left breast. “I couldn’t have done that with a 1912 evening gown.”

“Done wha… Oh, God.”

  
  


Rose threw her head back, a low whine echoing in her throat, and bucked her hips as his hand slipped under her bum and his finger found its way into her dripping core. He lowered his face to her cleavage and peppered a trail of kisses down, until his course was hindered by the corset and he had to fiddle with the zip on her back to pull it down, along with the corset that pooled around her waist. 

 

Rose found it impossibly unfair that he could remain entirely focused on her and tackle so many different tasks at once, while she barely managed to keep her eyes open. She fought back the urge she had to grind down on his agile finger circling her opening - this was her fantasy, and she refused to be a passive receiver when she could be an active giver. She let go of the edge of the seat she had used to balance herself on his lap and pulled on his shirt, just enough to dip her head down and paint lazy circles with her moist tongue around his nipple. She was rewarded with a grunt and a soft slap on her round buttock, and she smiled against his flesh. Oh, she knew he liked to be the one in control, but not this time. She squeezed her thighs tightly together to trap his wrist, a wordless order for him to still the teasing of his finger, and made a quick job of unfastening his trousers and reach into his pants to grab his hardness.

  
  


“Fuck, Rose,” he choked out a curse, his eyes sealing tightly shut when she brushed his slit with the pad of her thumb.

“Quiet, Doctor,” she chastised, accompanying her words with a tighter grip on his twitching member. “We’re not in a ship’s hold right now.”

“Then stop teasing, love,” he growled - underlying the irony of his demand, his lips closing around her nipple and his middle finger sketching the cleft of her bum. 

“No,” she simply answered, swallowing his protest with a languid kiss she broke after making sure he would keep his mouth shut.

  
  


She slid off his thighs and sat back on her haunches, getting as comfortable as she could despite the confined space of the passenger compartment. She looked up into his eyes, drowned in a cocktail of lust and unadulterated passion, and motioned for him to lift his hips so she could pull on his trousers. There was something terribly exciting to see the way his hands struggled to find their place, unable to decide between the edge of the seat or her shoulders or the back of his head, only to end up twining them in the messy bun of her blond hair. She licked the corner of her lips, her eyes never leaving his, and his cock bobbed against his abdomen at the terribly erotic sight. His basic instincts took over when her hot, wet tongue licked its way up his erection and her mouth sucked his head in, his hips jerking up to try and get more friction, his chest heaving with a gasp that got caught in his throat on the way out. 

 

This must have been the forty-eighth time Rose pleased him in such an overwhelming way - if his memory served him right, but the liquid fire flowing from the image of his cock disappearing into her mouth and the silky feel of her cheeks hollowing around him was just as roaring and boiling as the first. It was one of the rare things that could make him surrender this fast, despite his repeated attempts at gathering enough self-control to make it last. He never succeeded, and he was sure she knew it. The cheeky minx. She was taunting him, twirling her tongue around his tip and squeezing her fingers around his base, provoking him, gently scratching her nails against his balls, all while daring him to make her stop with that mischievous glint in her whiskey irises. He  _ never  _ succeeded.

  
  


“Come here,” he eventually growled, the defeat transpiring through the harshness of his tug on her dress to bring her back up. “I’ll show you what teasing is. Here, on your knees.”

“I don’t think that’s what Mister Dawson would have done,” Rose giggled, still obeying his instruction and climbing back up on the backseat.

“I don’t think a first class lady would have sucked her boyfriend off,” the Doctor retorted - and Rose felt a shiver of pleasure trickle down her spine like cold water at the almost offensive remark. 

“Do I not meet your approval, Doctor? Not enough of a lady to please you?”

“You know you’re everything I love, Rose,” he reassured her with a quick kiss on her shoulder blade. “Now, bend.”

  
  


Rose did as she was told, bracing herself against the curtained window and curving the small of her back, feeling his knee dig into the leather of the seat while his other leg remained on its side - it wasn’t large enough to fully kneel behind her, but the way he had to fold across her back and roll an arm around her waist to make the most of the leverage made it hard to mind. Rose moaned low in her throat at the touch of his hot erection nestling against the small of her back, and understood the payback would come close to being torturous. A soft hand cupped one of her breast, tweaking the already taut nipple between his knuckles, and another set of fingers scraped the triangle of hair at the apex of her sex, just hard enough for the pull on her skin to tease her clit and make renewed wetness trickle down the inside of her thigh. Her inner muscle clenched around nothing, his precum leaking on her skin adding to her already sizzling desire.

  
  


“Doctor, please,” she breathed out, reaching back with her hand to grab his bum.

“Teasing’s not so fun anymore, eh?” he smiled, cradling her mound in his palm without offering any friction. “Tell me, love, what do you want?”

“Touch me,” she begged, craning her neck in search of his mouth he accepted to slant over hers in a searing kiss.

“Where?” he questioned again after releasing her lips with a wet pop, for the sole purpose of dragging her to the thin edge between pleasure and frustration.

“My… My clit,” she panted - it was becoming increasingly hard to formulate coherent sentences, especially when he started to rut against her bum.

“Whatever my lady wants,” he whispered in the crook of her ear.

  
  


Rose expected his fingers to finally,  _ finally  _ properly touch her to soothe the raging desire scorching her loins, but she groaned in disappointment when his hand went even further away from where she wanted it. She almost protested, but soon he slapped the side of her thigh, a silent request to narrow the space between her legs, and a shudder had a sudden weakness spread through her limbs. She felt the tip of his crock drag along the cleft of her bum, down, and he ran his erection through her folds, coating it in her wetness. Without a warning, he slammed his hips against her rear, and Rose bit hard into her lip to keep a shout of pleasure in. He had never done that before, and the unexpected movement made her desire increase tenfold. There was something incredibly erotic to feel his head push against her clit in such an intimate way, to feel his hotness against her and the weight of his body bending over her back. 

  
  


“How does that feel, Rose?” he croaked against the nape of her neck, his ragged breathing clearly pointing to his own arousal. “Do you like it?”

“Again, Doctor,” was her only answer, and she pressed her sweaty palms against the door to push her hips back towards him, squeezing the inside of her thighs around him. “Do it again.”

  
  


And so he did. He rocked his hips again, and again, grunting every time the head of his almost painfully hard cock bumped into her engorged nub, the coil in his loins growing tighter at the sound of her wails, at the sight of her rippling skin when he slammed against her bum, at the feel of her wet flesh vibrating against his own. 

  
  


“Fuck, Rose, I could come just like that,” the Doctor growled, his fingers clenching harder around her hip bone.

“I’d like that,” she confessed, a wild blush rising to her cheeks. “I’m… I’m so close already, Doctor. Can you?”

“Yes, Gods, yes,” he nodded hurriedly, abandoning her breast so he could use both his hands to ram harder into her.

  
  


He wasn’t even into her, but Rose - much like the Doctor, he would tell her later - believed she had never experience such hot and intensely pleasurable sex before. Her inner muscles contracted in tandem with each of his thrust, just like they would if he were penetrating her, and that only added to the searing arousal flaring at each rub of his cock against her clit, a direct stimulation as his foreskin pushed on her hood that sent sparks of wild electricity flowing through her veins at a lightening speed. His movements turned erratic, uneven after a few more powerful thrusts, and his moans turned into loud grunts.

  
  


“ _ Rose _ ,” he warned, too lost in his pleasure to fully measure the force with which he slapped her bum again.

“Right there Doctor,” she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut at the unexpected blow that was just enough to send her over the edge. “Oh God, yes.”

  
  


Rose shouted his name, and the Doctor understood she had come as he felt the regular throb of her muscles resonate through her folds and the sudden wetness coating his cock at each quick thrust, so much he felt it trickle down his hard member to his balls. He was soon to follow, yanking her hips towards him as he buried his cock one last time between the tightness of her thighs.

  
  


“Gods, love, I’m, fuck, I’m...,” he cried out loudly, his cock twitching fast and hard against her hot sex, his seed spurting in wild shots, over the dress still gathered around her waist, the green velvet of the door and the leather of the seat. “Holy… Fuck, Rose, I’m…”

  
  


The Doctor couldn’t find it in him to finish what he wanted to say, couldn’t even remember what he wanted to say, and simply collapsed over her back with one last moan thick with the intense pleasure of his release. Rose fell on her forearms, her wobbling arms unable to hold her weight and his any longer, and she simply sighed of contentment, enjoying the last shivers brought by the tremendous force of her orgasm. She welcomed his warm lips on the side of her neck with a smile, but the smile quickly faded.

  
  


“There’s light outside, Rose,” the Doctor warned her, his shallow breath now more nervous than excited. “Put your dress back on, quick.”

  
  


Rose gasped and hurried to pull the straps of her dress back over her shoulders, tugged on the skirt, while the Doctor hastened to fasten his trousers and partly button up his shirt. He sneaked a peek behind the curtain, worry blooming in his stomach when he saw two police agents with a torch staring at the car with way too much suspicion.

  
  


“We’re gonna have to run, love,” he whispered, clasping his sweaty fingers around hers. “Ready?”

“Just a second,” she murmured as she tugged on the curtain of the door.

  
  


The Doctor watched, a smirk spreading over his face, Rose press her palm against the window covered in steam and drag it down to leave a messy imprint of her hand.

  
  


“There,” she giggled softly. “Now I’m ready.”   
  


 

The Doctor bit his lip to keep a laugh locked in his mouth and waited for her nod before he flung the door open. That wasn’t really part of the scene Rose had imagined, but she supposed it was just the kind of spice that came with being in love with the Doctor.

 

* * *

 


End file.
